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Zesh and random Master in Trenton, NJ December 9th, Sunday "I'm sorry, Shay's not here right now. He's visiting Jakob. You can find him there." "Actually, I'm here to see you, young man. I've wanted to speak with you for a few days. And now that the trial is over, I can. May I come in?" Zesh's mouth tightens, but he reluctantly moves aside and lets him in. "I've been very concerned about the things I'm hearing from you. That you are not a monk? You are a druid?" "I am. I don't think I am by magic – I know well enough every time I help with a brew that I'm not really a druid," he says bitterly. "But by culture and association and choice, I am a druid." "I imagine that your experience with Jakob was very difficult. That it shook you, perhaps damaged your faith-" "Jakob only finished the job! The foundation was first weakened by shock after shock from you, from monk masters. Dozens of them. Long before Jakob, monk society made it very clear it wanted nothing to do with me. I listened for a while, but I wasn't quite done with monks. Jakob only made the feeling mutual. I do not count myself as a monk any longer. You're clear of me, at long last." Zesh takes a deep breath, calming himself. "I see no point in rehashing this time and again. If you want to know why I've left, ask around. I'm sure you'll find out all about me." "I already have." "Then you know all the answers. There's perseverance, and then there's stupidity. I needed grounding, and I wasn't finding it with the monks. I looked elsewhere. I'd even found it, before Jakob came along and broke me. And he did. He broke me utterly. Any last faith I had in the monks, in myself as a monk, in who I was and my place in the world, all of it was shattered. The druids had given me serenity and self-acceptance after so much damage and doubt from the monks, and then it was a monk that broke me again. And it was a druid to fix me. Again. Shay is my master and my mountain. What need have I of you?" "Being a monk is about more than controlling your abilities, young master. It's about history and culture and religion and community." "I have the history. I've partaken of the culture. I can honor my religion at a synagogue, for the most part. And I'm part of a community. The druid community is vast and tight knit, and Shay's part in it is global. With him as my mentor, I could be accepted anywhere in the world by the potions community in a heartbeat, and they're everywhere. There is nothing the monks can offer me any longer." "This deeply saddens me… Especially since it sounds as though you may be right." Zesh blinks at him in surprise. "Though I am glad you have found what you need, it is always sad to see one of us leave the fold, so to speak. Well… instead, may we simply talk a while? You regard us with much rancor, and well-deservedly. I should like to try to clear the air on our behalf, if you would be willing." Zesh studies him for a few moments, then slooowly sits down. "All right. We can try to clear." "If I may say one argumentative thing? You say that Jakob merely finished what the other monks started, and you frequently referred to him also as a monk. I think today has proven that he is not a monk. Far more than you." "No. You're right. But at the time the damage was done, I regarded him as one. And 'as it is in the heart, so it often becomes in the mind'." "Too true, young man. I apologize. May I also commend you on finding a path so very true to our own origins." "Thank you! No one ever seemed to understand that! I sought my guidance from our history, and I found it." "And the druids welcomed you in when we did not." "…Exactly." "I also heard that Ren Kaede of Tennessee wrote you not long ago." "She did. Telling me that the others who rejected me were fools, and offering to be my master. Eight years too late. I told her some of the same things I told you. That I have a druid master now, a mountain, and I do not need her to find my peace." "You replied with such bitterness?" "Of course not. I replied politely. She already knew, anyway." "Goodness… Her reputation has always painted her as hasty. Dozens of masters, fools. Hard to imagine." "…Yes." "Did you ask her how she could be so late? Or how so many presumably wise men could have been such fools?" "No. I did not." He looks surprised. "Did you not wonder?" Zesh fidgets a moment, frustrated, before bursting out, "Of course I wondered! How could I not? I spent eight fucking years wondering what was so wrong with me! But how do I ask that in a letter? How do I respectfully and politely reply and ask the questions of a petulant and wounded child? How do you demand to know what took someone so goddamn long to ask what you've been waiting for for years, especially when you no longer want it or need it, and all they've done is rip out the stitches?" "How indeed… Would you like to know?" Zesh blinks, brought up short. "What?" "Would you like to know how they all were such fools, and why she took so long?" "I… How do you know?" "Asking. Past experience. Educated guessing. Would you?" Zesh stares at him painfully before saying, "Yes." "Many of the most powerful MiDavids, ones capable of training you, are in other parts of the world. You were searching for several needles in one very large haybarn. Already such long odds against you." "It was never any surprise they all rejected me. I know how powerful I am. But- the way they did it. They-" "I know," he holds up a hand. "You do not need to tell me. And that part, I am very sad to say, is because of you. But not anything you could help. You were angry, yes? In pain, tumultuous, haughty, lost, fifteen. Perhaps the worst of the lot. And powerful. These masters were all much weaker than you. You… overwhelmed them. A bit like Jakob controlled those around him on purpose, you unconsciously influenced others with your own emotions. And so they scorned and lashed out without realizing, and then rationalized their behavior afterwards." "So it was my fault…" "No! Not your fault. Merely your cause. Do not let that lie settle into your heart. Do you know your parents hunted as well?" "What?" "They found Furikan for you. And they knew you were in need. Of course they hunted. But just as Furikan himself was old, so were a very great many of his friends. Everyone they asked was dead, or too old to handle a pair so young and strong. They of course all had recommendations. One another, or others in the same boat. As for Ren, she has been in seclusion for nearly a decade, seeking further enlightenment. Her subordinates refused you on her behalf, and referred your parents, again, to other unavailable masters. I imagine… they stopped hunting when you did. And never told you so as not to add to your burden." "I can't believe it…" "I hope you can forgive us, young master, for being so weak and frail. We were not enough for you." Zesh is simply quiet for a while before whispering, "Thank you." "The air is a little clearer now, yes?" "Yes." "I hope one day you will heal enough to return to us. Perhaps you don't need us, or we need you, but there is more than need that binds us together." "Perhaps one day, yes." "But it is of no matter, eh? You have your mountain. He is truly an amazing druid." Zesh starts to stiffen, and the master muses and strokes his beard, twinkling. "Why, I'd say he even reminds me of…" Zesh refuses to bite, and after several moments the master speaks again. "Then you have seen it. You suspect him to be a shoftim as well. Have you presented him?" "Do I need to? Clearly you've seen it." "I don't know him. It is not my place." "Well it isn't mine either, not anymore. If the monks want him, let a monk find him." "Ah, yes, of course… For you are a druid now." "I am." The master stands slowly and creakily, then comes over to place a hand on Zesh's shoulder. "That is petty, young man. And it is beneath you. You know the right thing to do," he pats, then turns to go. "I suspect I have given you enough thoughts to plague you for the night. I shall take my leave now. Thank you for the wonderful talk, Zesshi." "And… you, Master Weisz. Good night." "Good night."